


Takahiro knows perfectly how this started

by kayejwrotes



Series: Kinktober 2017 [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Barebacking, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Inappropriate Humor, Kinktober 2017, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Smile, Smut, Writing sex for matsuhana is incredibly difficult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-20 00:12:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12421071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayejwrotes/pseuds/kayejwrotes
Summary: The door of Mattsun's room was closed, but he could hear faint music coming from inside, he'd probably fall asleep with the TV on, again.“LOOK WHO'S COME TO MAKE YOUR DAY BRIGHTER…?” he had wanted to make a grand appearance, kicking softly the door and presenting himself in all his crooked uniform glory, but the whole plan had died in his throat with a choking sound.The view that presented in front of him had made him question himself whether or not he was stepping in an entirely new word for how surreal and exotic he found it.Matsukawa Issei was jerking off on the edge of his mattress.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that really challenged me, maybe the first real challenge in this kinktober from the start.  
> The prompts are from day 12 and some other days, but since it evolved into a two chaptered thing, expect the tag to change and the smut to have some sort of upgrade.
> 
> These two are idiots. Case closed.

Takahiro knows perfectly how this started.

 

The first time happened when they were still in high school.

Mattsun had been sick the whole week, so it had been his job to deliver him the notes from their classes.

Mattsun's mom hadn't been home that day, but the door was opened when he had rung, and he knew the Matsukawas. They wouldn't mind him entering, even if there wasn’t anyone to welcome him at the door.

And Mattsun was sick, it wasn't like he could come down to open the door anyway.

 

He had left his shoes and coat messily in the genkan, walking upstairs in only his socks since he couldn't find the usual pair of slippers for guests.

He liked to think that was the main reason Mattsun hadn’t heard him coming. Everything because of a pair of missing slippers.

 

The door of Mattsun's room was closed, but he could hear faint music coming from inside, he'd probably fall asleep with the TV on, again.

 

“LOOK WHO'S COME TO MAKE YOUR DAY BRIGHTER…?” he had wanted to make a grand appearance, kicking softly the door and presenting himself in all his crooked uniform glory, but the whole plan had died in his throat with a choking sound.

 

The view that presented in front of him had made him question himself whether or not he was stepping in an entirely new word for how surreal and _exotic_ he found it.

 

Matsukawa Issei was jerking off on the edge of his mattress, his cheeks flushed, a light rosy shade barely visible on his darker skin, but Takahiro had known that face for too long to not notice it.

His hair was still mussed from the pillow he was sleeping on not long ago, the mouth slightly agape, murmuring something Takahiro couldn't hear, but he was too focused on the hypnotic movement of Mattsun's hand around his cock.

 

It wasn’t like he had never seen it - they had compared in the lockers once, during their first year, after Oikawa had challenged all of them. In the end, Mattsun was the longest, but Iwaizumi was the one with more girth. Oikawa's pride had been hurt a lot that day - but it was a first in this setting.

 

He had never thought that his friend's hand - the one that passed him pens, erasers, volleyballs - could look so good around his cock.

There's technique to the loop, and for a moment it felt weird he found himself analyzing it, but it wasn't like he couldn't take his eyes off, anyway.

 

Takahiro really shouldn't look, he knew this, but there's something so entrancing he found himself following the movement of Mattsun's hand with his eyes. Up and down, back and forth, tugging skin and making veins throb under it.

 

Mattsun was giving long strokes all along the shaft, from the glazed red tip to the base, where he tugged just that much to make his balls bounce up and back up again, squeezing his palm just slightly when he was about to slip down again, and the thing seemed to make him feel good, since everytime he brushed against the head of his cock he couldn't help but bite a bit his lower lip.

 

He had been stroking himself for a while already, probably, because it didn’t take that much time for Mattsun to come.

Takahiro had just stared at him through it all, Mattsun at some point had opened his eyes, looked at him with no surprise in them, and then kept stroking himself to oblivion until he came, a low groan barely held from his lips while his cock spurted in his hand.

Mattsun’s half-lidded eyes never left Takahiro’s through all of this.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The second time happened one day when Mattsun came to visit him at home after practice.

He hadn’t texted to let Takahiro know he would have passed by, and Takahiro tried to take care of that kind of business when no one else was at home, so it was really something destined to happen. Or that was what Takahiro told himself after cursing for not having locked his door.

 

It had been a long week at school, with finals coming and the pressure for university applications. Jerking off helped to release some of the tension, focus back, go on for some more hours.

 

He had been lazily palming his cock while he was laying on his bed, a box of tissues ready at hand for later, when Mattsun had opened his door without announcing himself.

 

Takahiro had frozen in place, hand still on his cock, fear and shame running through his body at the fleeting thought that now they were fair, since now it was Mattsun’s turn to catch him in one of those very private moments.

 

They have never talked about what had happened that afternoon, and he had tried his damned best to bury the incident in his memory, even if sometimes the look Mattsun had given him while he had come still resurfaced (and Takahiro wasn’t ready to face any kind of acknowledging moment coming from it).

 

He had expected a mocking sentence, a joke, even some kind of disgust from Mattsun. He could work with that.

He’d tuck himself back in his pants, and then proceed to lecture his friend about not entering without knocking, which would have probably led to Mattsun telling something about Takahiro not knocking when entering in his room. They’d banter and yell about that for a while until the issue would have kinda buried itself.

 

But Mattsun simply nodded at him, let his bag fell against the wall and asked with an almost disinterested tone “Would you mind if I…?”, while he sat on Takahiro’s bed, tugging in a very suggestive manner at his own sweats.

 

And Takahiro, confused as hell, hand still on his hard cock, had murmured something like “ Hell, no, I don’t…” and then he had followed the movement of Mattsun’s hands while he had tugged both sweats and boxers down, just enough to take out his half-hard cock and proceeded to slowly stroke himself, next to Takahiro.

 

After a moment of shock, Takahiro had started to jerk himself off again, too shocked with whatever was happening to actually let himself think about it.

 

They had come both at almost the same time, few seconds apart from each other, and Takahiro had stolen glances at the more interesting profile of Mattsun's jaw while he came: the tension of it, when he had gritted his teeth to keep some traitorous moan in, the sparse stubble that had started to appear lately, shading it perfectly, the clenched folds at the end of his droopy eyes, pinched in a hard line.

 

It was this that kept unsettling him the most, the fact that he kept noticing all those little details, those fucking things that no one paid attention to.

Like, yeah, who cared if Mattsun seemed to have a mole, a small one, right where his right ear was attached to the jaw?

 

No one cared, but Takahiro had noticed and he wanted to remember it. It seemed important. He _had_ to remember it.

 

“Would you pass me some tissues?” The raspy tone of Mattsun's voice distracted him enough to react, tossing the box on his lap.

 

“Oy! Just so you know, you really suck at throwing things…” his voice had that grin that only promised troubles, but, despite knowing it, Takahiro was desperate for some sort of change to shake him awake from that weird state of hyper-attention.

 

“Well, it wasn't my dominant hand and I was occupied before _someone_ came in…”

 

“Oh, Hiro, you're too much of charmer! I know it was only because of me that you were able to…”

 

“It shrank. I'll never be able to make it get up ever again now. Thank you. You've just effectively ended the long, long dynasty of the Hanamakis.”

 

“What the fuck! If anything it would have given you a boost…”

 

And just like that, whatever conversation, actual conversation, they might have had about this... _thing_ was effectively avoided and the Thing™ became a usual thing in their routines.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Third time's the charm, they say.

 

Well, the third time was now passed and gone, and Takahiro had stopped questioning himself about the thing and just sort of got along with it a long time ago.

 

It had weirdly become “ _their_ ” thing.

 

They would meet up at either Takahiro's or Mattsun's, go upstairs in their room, start doing their homework together, and at some point one of them would release a particularly frustrated exhale, a sort of high pitched sigh that usually ended in low rumbling, and then they'd look at the other as if sizing each other up.

 

Then they would both pull out their already half-hard dicks from their pants, and start to jerk off.

It wasn’t because he wanted to sound crude that Takahiro thought about the thing in these terms, but that was it. Really.

 

During college, he had thought more than once they were getting off together, not in terms of proximity but of rhythm? Stares? Looks?

Yeah, they’ve more than shared looks at each other’s while doing it.

 

But in the present days it had become a rare occurrence, due to work and adult life in general.

 

After college, in these days, they shared an apartment, because they’d worked so well together as a team at the whole rent-grocery-laundry gig it was a pity not to continue with that kind of routine, and also because they’ve ended up working at the same company too.

 

The eventuality of hand-jobs together had stayed, of course. Takahiro never even questioned it anymore, even if it had become more sparse.

 

(Although, after all these years, Takahiro still wasn't ready to admit he had had solo-masturbation sessions that ended so pleasantly only with the help of the imagery of his friend beside him doing it too. In some of the wildest ones it was even Mattsun's hand, rough and with long fingers, engulfing his dick in a very pleasant grasp.

The thought left him dizzy just by recalling the memory of it, and he had tried his best to bury it under layers and layers of stubbornness.

They had never talked about feelings or what happened between them. No comments or anything. It was something they felt the need to keep unmentioned, and Takahiro had never been the one to question it, too afraid of the possible outcome a conversation like that might have between them.)

 

But, well, he was questioning their weird routine a bit right now, in this exact moment, while they were sitting with some colleagues at the long table of an izakaya’s room.

It was a normal thing to meet up at this izakaya after work, but today the head of their department had gone all out and reserved an entire room just for them because of the incredible work they’ve managed to do that month.

 

Takahiro and Issei - after all these years of living together, they were used to call the other by first name - were sitting next to each others as always. Everyone was already well on their way to nurse one hell of an hungover in the morning, except Takahiro who had been sipping nervously at his second beer for half an hour now, while trying to work his direct boss in the direction of a general rise of their salary, and Issei, who was lazily stroking Takahiro’s cock under the table.

 

He wasn’t drunk, not at all, and no one could see them, not with the table blocking the view. Nothing could have given him away, if someone wasn’t so well acquainted with the barely perceptible changes in his otherwise impassible poker face. It was a little mischievous tug at Issei’s lips, that made Takahiro realize he wasn’t hallucinating, but his friend was actually giving him a very discrete hand-job under the table.

 

He hadn’t noticed it, at first.

 

Issei’s hand had brushed at his inner thigh so rapidly, so lightly, it was almost an afterthought of a touch. A casualty.

 

He had thought it was a mistake, his friend had been drinking, maybe he had lost his balance and tried to find it again with a hand on the floor. That was what he had thought when Issei’s hand had made contact the second time with his thigh.

But it didn't leave this time. It just stayed there, hot fingers fanning over the dark grey fabric of his pants’ suit, a presence he couldn't just ignore as easily as before.

 

He could feel the warmth from Issei’s fingertips, dissolving in his pants, where they were kneading his thigh. Takahiro tried his best to keep his expression neutral, but when he felt them travel upwards toward his crotch he hadn’t been able to repress a shudder.

What had been a warm pressure before was now a very insistent, very suggestive, fucking hot massage against the fold his thigh made where it connected with his crotch.

He was trying to make a speech, a persuasive one on top of it, but Issei’s hand kept massaging the skin through the fabric, the palm brushing every now and then against his cock.

 

If this was torture, it was one of the finest, because Takahiro was finally enjoying the hands he had seen in action so many times on himself, but it was torture nonetheless.

 

He had been keeping his hands on the table for the whole time, trying to feign a calmness he wasn’t feeling, but when he had made a movement to take them off, Issei had slipped his hand without even blinking inside his pants and had cupped his cock.

 

Takahiro had hissed at this and forgotten for a moment what he was trying to do, turning instead toward Issei’s lazy smirk. He was playing drunk, the fucker, but his eyes were clear and attentive. It was just an act.

 

“ _What the fuck Issei!!_ ” He could feel the blush creeping on his neck, but he whispered the words at a very uninterested Issei, who had not taken his hand away from his cock, but was now thumbing the tip in an almost lovely circle over his briefs.

 

“You were being too tense…” The low grumble that answered him, made Takahiro livid.

 

“ _This is not the fucking way to help me relax…! -_ ”

 

“And Tamaki-san isn’t listening to you anymore. He’s two minutes from passing away…” Issei had said with a very eloquent gesture toward Tamaki-san's back, turned at them, the man already falling forward in between laughter and shouts for more sake.

 

It wasn't that Issei was wrong, but he couldn't just tease Takahiro like that... not... he just couldn't... “I don’t fucking care! Of all the moments you could do this, you choose right fucking now, when we are surrounded by people and…” Takahiro could see the moment when realization had dawned on him, having felt the involuntary twitch of his cock under his hand.

 

Issei’s eyes had now taken a very interested gleam in them and Takahiro was realizing his mistake.

 

“...You like it. You like this.” It had been just a whisper, a really surprised one, but it had been enough to make Takahiro fully blush and take Issei's hand away from him. 

  
"We're going home."

 

"We are?" but despite his question, Issei was already putting on his jacket and standing up, more eager than what his words let on.

 

"Yes, we are." Takahiro had hissed irritatingly at him, trying to pat the situation going on inside his pants toward a more proper one - not the easiest thing to do when Issei kept glancing at his crotch with a half smirk playing on his lips - "And we are gonna talk things through this time".

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm... This chapter had a life of his own and I struggled to keep it where I wanted it to go, but Matsuhana is a bit of a chaotic couple, so it was expected. 
> 
> And surprise, surprise! WE HAVE ART FOR THIS CHAPTER!
> 
> The lovely majxra on Tumblr blessed me with the honour of a collaboration and she came up with[ this](https://majxra.tumblr.com/post/166793075078/day-25-boot-worship-suspension) beautiful thing! I love it so much!

The train ride back home had been a silent affair. As in, I-can’t-really-talk-in-this-moment-or-I’ll-get-arrested-for-what-I-have-to-say type of silence.

 

Takahiro had sat with his legs crossed, trying to will his stubborn hard-on down, but it had been a battle against his own body. Issei had stood in front of him, one hand on the railing high above their heads and the other one shoved deep into his coat pocket, and it was okay, because he wasn’t looking at him but outside the window cart, observing the dark silhouette of the city melting into one long dark shadow with sporadic lights here and there.

 

Takahiro knew that Issei was trying to let him reorganize his thoughts, but he kept going back to less than an hour ago when something far better than the hem of Issei’s coat had been brushing against his legs. This led to other thoughts and all in all it was one big mess of sensations that Takahiro kept feeling coursing through his body. It wasn’t helping. Not at all.

 

He had to be lucid, to clear his head.

 

Living in that limbo of theirs had been good until now, when none of them had ever made a move toward the other.

It wasn’t that Takahiro’s feelings weren't clear about the situation at hand, oh, no. He had always known since high school he had been in love with Issei. Confessing, trying to see if things could work out between them, that was another completely different matter.  
Confessing to Issei, without having at least an inkling of what could have been his answer, wasn’t something Takahiro wanted to do. Issei was his best friend, his partner, and if confessing to him meant losing their friendship, well… Takahiro wasn’t ready for that. It was better to have his best friend by his side and hide his own feelings, than losing Issei in his opinion. That was what he had always thought about the matter.

 

Now something had changed. They had never been ones to toe around things, and yet this _thing_ that was out of whatever scheme regular best friends have, if some would call masturbating next to his best friend a thing or if it was just some sort of weird and sick form of attachment - Takahiro really didn’t want to think about this kind of eventuality - in short, they had been cowards for all this time, deciding it was better, comfier, more reassuring, to never address the situation.  
If you tell something aloud, it becomes real. Takahiro had always believed this.

 

Things became real if told aloud, and the eventuality of their thing coming to reality would have been life-changing for the both of them. Whether in a good or bad way, Takahiro wasn’t really inclined to discover it, but tonight things had changed because Issei had touched him, and he definitely wasn’t ready for it.

 

He could still feel the warmth of his touch on him...

Takahiro shook his head in an effort to steer his thoughts away from the memory of it. It was gonna be a difficult talk once they got home.

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, they had tried prolonging every last bit of normalcy they could muster but after having both showered and changed into comfier clothes, they couldn’t ignore the issue anymore.

 

They had both been sitting for a few minutes in silence on the couch, pretending to look at some late night show on the tv, even though the volume had been almost turned off all the way.

 

The blueish light from the screen danced on Issei’s trait in such an endearing way, that Takahiro almost lost his words when he opened his lips to speak.

 

“...Uhn? What?”

 

“I said… Why did you stop me? I didn’t want to leave you in such a… _hard_ situation.” the tone was so casual, Takahiro felt the need to check twice Issei had said something like that to him before answering him.

 

“Are you kidding me?” he asked baffled, turning all the way toward Issei, still looking absently at the screen in front of them.

 

“Am not. You should have just let me do it. I know you were uncomfortable all the way back then.”

 

“You are kidding me, right? How the fuck do you think I could have let you give me a handjob under the table in front of our boss Issei?!” a fist collided with the back of their couch with a soft thud and only now Takahiro acknowledged the tension wiring him. “What gave you the idea you could fucking give me a fucking handjob Issei?!” and only at those words Issei turned to look at him, a weird, lost look in his eyes.

 

He seems to be looking for words.

“...I… I just can!… can’t I?” as if he said the most obvious thing in the world. As if he had every right in the world to give Takahiro, his best friend, his flatmate, the man he has been masturbating next to since high school, a fucking hand job.

 

There was a moment of silence again, between them. And now Takahiro was at a loss of… everything - not just words - because this situation seemed to become more complicated with every new word.

 

“...Are you drunk?” maybe that’s it. Maybe Issei was drunk and Takahiro hadn’t recognized it yet. That would be a perfectly logical explanation for all that nonsense.

 

“...I’m sober and you know it, Hiro.” The deadpan look on Issei just an indicator of how much he was sober and utterly done with all of Takahiro problems with the situation “I honestly don’t understand why are you mad at me. I feel at a loss here.” and to top it off, he genuinely looked at him as if he couldn’t really understand where the problem was.

 

Another silence, full of the unreality of the situation. Takahiro took a deep breath and then clapped his hands together, sitting cross-legged on the couch while he turned all the way toward Issei.

  
“Okay, we are clearly not going to get to the point of all of this if we go on like that…” Takahiro started, looking seriously at Issei, now turned toward him too, “So let’s play twenty questions” he declared, as if that was the solution to all of their problems.

 

“Hiro, this won’t do…”

 

“YOUR FIRST QUESTION ISSEI!”

 

Issei huffed, but it seemed like there wasn’t any other way to solve this, “Why are you mad at me Takahiro?”

 

“Because you tried giving me a handjob in front of our boss. My turn. Why did you decide it was good to give me a hand job in front of our boss?”

Takahiro had that precise look in his eyes that told Issei they really had to do the game all the way or they won’t be able to get over this, so instead of huffing again he just shrugged and answered. It was gonna be an even longer night.

 

“Because you were too tense, everyone was drunk and wouldn’t have noticed, and I thought you wouldn’t have minded it too much.”

 

“Are you fucking serious?! Of course I would have minded, you dumbass!” Takahiro exclaimed, before Issei stopped him with a hand.

 

“Is that your question?” the amused turn of his lips barely visible in the weird light coming off from the tv screen, but Takahiro could feel it even in the dark.

 

“Is that yours?” he asked back with a surreal surge of hilariousness. They were there on their couch, discussing the reasons behind his best friend’s right of giving him a hand-job, and it was turning into a match into who could annoy the other the most apparently.

 

“I’m gonna count both of those and go on. Why does it bother you that much, Hiro? I get it, not in front of our boss, that wasn’t probably a brilliant idea, but… if it was here? Would it bother you that much?”

 

The tone of Issei’s voice didn’t leave space to doubt. There was no joke in it now, just an honest search for some form of answer.

Issei’s eyes were searching his with an emotion Takahiro can quite put his finger upon but he’d say it’s something real, genuine, _raw_ with the intensity of it.

 

And he’d like to answer “Yes, yes, of course, why do you ask” but the idea of it just scared the shit out of him.

What if it was actually all a joke?

 

“...That’s not the point.” but maybe it was time to get some answers because this situation after tonight had come at its turning point “Issei, what am I to you?”

 

Takahiro looked at Issei’s bewildered face and already knew what the other would see: hesitation, a hint of fear of rejection, the scary feeling of seeing all his hopes shuttered in front of him by Issei’s strong affirmation of their relationship as f… “My boyfriend?”

 

It’s said almost in a murmur, even a bit lost one, because Issei was gazing at him as if he wasn’t that sure anymore of his declaration.

“When… when did you ask me?!” and now was Takahiro’s turn to be at loss. How come he had been his best friend’s boyfriend and didn’t know anything about this.

 

“To be honest, it was you asking me.”  Issei gazed at him, eyes insistently piercing his, searching for some kind of recognition he probably didn’t find, since he was now groaning annoyedly. “You don’t remember anything about this?”

 

Takahiro shook his head vehemently. “I think I’ll remember if I were your boyfriend, since I’ve been in love with you since high-school…!” he replied heatedly, before acknowledging the soft smile now painted on Issei’s lips at his involuntary confession.  
Takahiro smacks his hands on his mouth - childish move, childish move, but the thing was already out now - but he couldn’t tear his eyes away by that pleased and fond expression on Issei’s features.

 

“Well, I’m glad to know you’re at least in love with me.” there was a fond, crooked smile at the end of this, something Takahiro had only seen in a few, very private, occasions before, a Sunday morning waking up first and preparing breakfast for the two of them, or when Issei sometimes stopped on their walk back at home after work to pet the calico cat that always hangs around the back of that ramen stall at the corner.  
  
It’s something soft, precious, something to remember, like the fact that Issei had that little mole next to his ear. Takahiro never forgot about it. But somehow he managed to forget about an important thing like that… how was it even possible.

 

“You asked me to be your boyfriend some night three years ago.”

 

“THREE FUCKING YEARS AGO ISSEI?!” but this…this is insane, this is ridiculous, this couldn’t only be his fault, because how could he had not noticed some changes in their relationship for three fucking years.

“Now, now I need to know how this happened, ‘cause Issei, I would have noticed, I mean...you’ve never even kissed me, or held my hand, like what the fuck, how can we be boyfriends with me not knowing it, you not telling me anything, and what the hell Issei, we’ve never done anything else besides stupid handjobs next to each other, and we’ve never even talked about that directly, oh my fucking…-” Takahiro felt hands, big hands he knew, covering his own that had been fluttering around for all the duration of that babbling he had been doing.

 

He didn’t know when he had stood up and started walking in circles around their little coffee table, but he knew the soft light in the stare Issei’s eyes were giving him.

He couldn’t look away, that last word still on his lips when he saw Issei bow down that few centimeters he still had on him, and kiss him, quietly, making the soft press of their lips last enough to stole Takahiro’s breath away and that last word too.

 

“I…” he had to say something, but Issei just shushed him with a small nod and the most radiant smile playing in his eyes, “I’m holding your hand” he said, tightening briefly the hold before intertwining their fingers, “And I’ve kissed you now”, Takahiro couldn’t take away his eyes from him as he whispered those last words against the shell of his right ear.

“So, can I be your boyfriend now?”

 

“Yes…” it was uttered so breathily it almost got lost in the next kiss Issei gave him.  
  
It was nothing like that first kiss.

 

It started slow, Issei’s warm hands cupping gently his cheeks, holding his face as if it was the most precious thing in the universe, his lips teasing quietly - languidly - his own, just a soft slow pull to let him savour them.

Takahiro wasn’t breathing but who cared when Issei was kissing him so gently, so softly, he could feel his heart thumping loudly with every little nip, every little pull of lips on lips.

 

He steadied himself grasping suddenly at Issei’s shoulders when his boyfriend’s tongue darted out to lick briefly at his upper lip, a teasing touch full of warmth and invitation.

Another quick lick of his tongue and Takahiro found himself gasping loudly, pulling Issei against his chest with a hunger that hadn’t been there just a few moments before, and that was probably enough for the both of them to light something, because the next thing Takahiro knew felt was the hands of Issei taking possession of his hips, drawing him even closer, and his mouth being mapped - oh so hotly, oh so passionately - by Issei, every sensitive bit of skin thoroughly explored and savoured.

 

Takahiro’s hands had nestled on Issei’s curls, made to be pulled and grasped in the most hot, sexy way he could think of, because he didn’t know how he could have lived until now without knowing the expression full of restrained desire his best friend made when he entangled his fingers in them and pulled slightly.

 

Issei’s lips traveled down his cheek, his jaw, and bit lightly on that small patch of skin behind his ear that had him gasping and biting back a moan. Tightening his hold on Issei’s curls, he was rewarded with the hottest, desperate, groan against the soft skin of his neck.

 

They kissed again and again, each time bringing a bit more of desperation, as if they unconsciously felt this was it, the moment they finally became a couple, after three years of misunderstanding and miscommunication.

  
Finally exploring each other with their hands and mouth felt like bliss for the both of them. No one had ever told him how sweet Issei’s skin could taste on his lips when he sucked on his collarbones. No one could understand the vastity of Issei joy when he licked a long stripe from Hiro’s neck, down to his nipple.

Being able to do this, finally able to feel, to touch the other fully, seemed like a long lost dream made reality. Something he had never thought would be possible between them was finally there, under his hand, under his lips, writhing and panting with a soft, joyful smile on his lips every time their eyes crossed.

 

They found themselves on the couch, t-shirts and sweatpants discarded somewhere on the floor at some point in between their exploration.  
  
Issei’s weight pinned down Takahiro in the most pleasant way, and he shuddered every time they moved one against the other, feeling the lips of his boyfriend - his boyfriend! - tracing hot paths on his chest and their crotches brushing so briefly, so teasingly, that every time that happened Takahiro felt a small gasp leave his lips.

 

His hands traveled down Issei’s strong shoulders, the muscles dancing swiftly under his touch, until he found the hem of his boxer and slithered his hands under them, to grasp Issei’s toned, perfect butt and pin him down against his pelvis.

 

A moan left both of their lips when their clothed cocks brushed, shudders traveling on Takahiro’s skin at the damp patch he could feel through the fabric of Issei’s briefs, and Takahiro found himself letting out a small, shaking laugh, happiness and incredulity in one sound.

 

“What… what’s wrong?” Issei grumbled, staring up at him from where he was kissing his chest.

 

“I’m just so happy…” Takahiro answered, a blinding smile full of joy stretching his lips, his eyes shining a bit glassily in the darkness, “ I’d never thought we could be together like this, Issei…” he murmured softly, as if scared that the unexpected happiness could be snatched away just as it had arrived, in a breath.

 

Issei stared at him, drawing back from him just enough to take all of him with his own eyes. Takahiro watched him, gaze traveling up and down his body in such a reverent, serious way, he felt himself stiffen under such a scrupulous inspection.

 

The pressure of his gaze was enough to snatch something from Takahiro’s lips as he felt something turning into lust in Issei’s eyes and his tongue wetting his lips, savouring what was going to happen if  - “Fuck me, Issei... ”

 

It stayed up in the air just a few seconds more, hung there as if waiting for something.

 

Issei dove upon his lips, hold bruising on his hips, a renewed fervor in his kisses. Lips, teeth, tongue, hands, everything was enough and at the same time it wasn't. He wanted to take all of Takahiro, every whimper, every moan, every tremor or satisfied smile when he bit a particularly sensitive patch of skin or pressed on some point.

He drunk all of it, and yet it wasn't enough.

 

He trailed down Takahiro's chest, to lavish his nipples with tongue and teeth, licks and bites, shivering with him at every pleasured groan. He could come just like that, listening to Takahiro's moans and groans, soft and rough at the same time, coming directly from the back of his throat.

Issei felt his cock twitch in his briefs, that previous damp patch of fabric on his tip having become so uncomfortable he wanted to take them off, but how could he when Takahiro kept fondling his ass, parting the cheeks and then pressing them together again with a strong grasp, fingers digging into the soft skin, holding him down against Takahiro's cock.

 

He was panting and moaning through gritted teeth, biting his lips when their cocks brushed and trying to get more friction there where he wanted him, eyes half-lidded.

 

“Hiro…” Issei tried stopping him, his hold on Takahiro's hips not strong enough to slow him down, “Hiro, let me… Anh!”

Takahiro's finger had found his hole and was prodding at it, a tenacious assault that had him gasping and panting.

 

“Hiro…!” He shuddered, managing to tug down the other’s briefs with a forceful move “Stop please, or I'll -!” he warned when he felt the first finger start to trace the rim of muscles insistently.

Issei had other plans despite the pleasant sensation coming from Takahiro's teasing against his hole.

Now that Takahiro had asked him to fuck him, there had always been something he had wanted to do. Something that just the mere thought of it had been enough in the past to make him come while jerking off.

 

Without any warning, he slithered away from Takahiro's hold on his ass, distracting him with slow licks and little bites all over his chest, diving down in the small depression of his navel, before placing a lingering, suggestive kiss on the jut of his hipbone.

The smile of surprise and eagerness on Takahiro's lips was enough to let him know he could go on. He went on slowly taking with him Takahiro’s brief, which he shackled down with a very clumsy and jerkish movement of his legs that had Issei snorting in amusement against the soft skin of Hiro’s inner thigh.

The tickling feeling of Issei’s laughter against the soft skin had Takahiro repressing a laugh of his own, while he placed his hands back on Issei’s curls, petting them gently, “Stop making fun of m-”

“You are so beautiful, Hiro” Issei interrupted him, fixing the most adoring look in his eyes and placing a delicate kiss on his skin. The raw pureness of his words had Takahiro blushing the most adorable shade of peach on his cheeks, and Issei felt the need to repress the urge to hug the hell out of him, or he would never be able to continue doing what he wanted.

So he left his flustered boyfriend to deal with his embarrassment and took a good look at the wonderful vision in front of him. Takahiro’s hard cock was standing proudly in front of Issei’s face, the reddened tip already glazed with precum from all the previous dry humping, but what Issei was looking for was just a bit hidden under it, nestled between the soft globes of Takahiro’s ass.

He had dreamt of eating him out. It really was no joke. The idea that in a matter of second he would have placed his own lips on that small rosy hole had his cock twitching.

A surprised whine pierced the silence when Issei sucked suddenly on Takahiro’s hole.  
The sensation was new, weird and oddly pleasant, the soft, warm pull of Issei’s lips on the tight ring of muscles lighting something inside of him.

Takahiro managed to reign in the better part of all the little sounds that threatened to escape from his lips while Issei kept assaulting his hole with small nips at the rim and quick kisses, pulling and pushing at the skin that was becoming hot and sensitive, but he couldn’t do anything when something hot and wet traced a long, slow strip over his hole.

The contact of Issei’s tongue had him arching up, tightening his hold on Issei’s curl. That seemed to spur the other on, because his tongue started licking quickly at Takahiro’s hole and soon he felt it pressing in, breaching him, and fucking him in quick, scorching hot thrusts, each one of them eliciting a new throaty moan from Takahiro.

He had never felt something like that. The wet thrust of Issei’s tongue had him doubled over, unable to stop himself from jerking his hips forward as if that would have made his tongue reach deeper inside him.

Issei kept him from his asscheeks, fondling them from time to time, but when he felt Takahiro starting to move against him, he lifted one from there, to insert one finger inside his hole along with his tongue, still licking and thrusting.

He knew was rutting against their couch and making a mess of his briefs, but how could he stop when he felt Takahiro starting to clench around his tongue and the fingers he was now steadily pumping into him when he added the second one?  
The idea of making him come untouched like that was tentating, but he wanted to feel that delicious ring stretching around his cock, clamping on him while Takahiro came.

“Issei…! Oh, fuck, yes… Keep going… Oh my god, this feels so good…” Takahiro had started muttering in between his rocking against him, eyes half closed and deep blush flushing his cheeks. He was a vision when Issei looked up at him. With a sonorous pop, Issei detached himself from Takahiro and kneeled on the couch over him, the other whining at the sudden sensation of emptiness inside him.

He wanted to bury himself in Takahiro right fucking now. He needed it.

Without taking his eyes off of him, Issei thrusted his right hand in between the couch cushions, searching blindly for something for a second and then extracting the hand holding victoriously a half-used bottle of lube, a triumphant and devilish smile on his lips when he uncapped it quickly and then tossed it aside. He tugged down with a rough movement his boxers, just enough to have his cock sprung out free, already spreading some lube on the head and then giving a quick stroke at the shaft.

“Uh… now I know where your secret stash is, Issei…” Takahiro mocked him, lifting his legs and tilting his hips toward him while the other was already aligning the tip with his hole, leaning over him.

"Oh, don't worry... I'll have to re-stash it soon, apparently..." Issei said, kissing his cheek lightly. And with a single movement, he went in, groaning at the sudden heat enveloping him.

"Oh my fucking..." Takahiro had uttered breathily against his ear, but Issei was relentless and started a quick, strong rhythm that had him moaning and grasping at his arms.

"Yes...! Yes! More Issei, more!" he felt himself whimpering, throwing his head back and grasping at the armrest behind him, not knowing how to ground himself against the overwhelming pleasure coming from Issei's dick inside him. He had never felt like that before.

He didn't even feel pain, because if there was, he was too lost in the pounding of Issei's dick inside him, brushing against his walls, stroking all the right places, and when he accidentally touched that sweet spot that lightened with pleasure, Takahiro had to bite Issei's shoulder to not let out a scream.

And Issei was just as lost as he was, biting his lips, sloppily kissing him in a hiccuping rhythm dictated by the push and pull movement of his cock inside Takahiro, so tight and hot he felt himself throbbing just at the thought of it.   
He was fucking Takahiro, his boyfriend, his best friend, with abandon, groaning against his open mouth, unable to detach from him even for a single breath.

He wanted all of him, and now that he was pounding against his sweet spot, he wanted more. "Come on, Hiro... come on..." Issei encouraged him, feeling him starting to clamp around his dick.

Takahiro was a mess. His cock twitched, leaking pre-cum on his stomach, brushed every now and then against Issei's abs, but it wasn't enough, he needed more to let that heat coiled up in his bell explode.

"Issei... Issei... Please!" he had moaned when the other hit his prostate again, and without saying anything more, Issei grabbed his erection and started pumping roughly, pressing with the pad of his thumb upon the tip covered in pre-cum, something he had learned Takahiro enjoyed immensely in all those years of hand-jobs side by side.  
  
That was it. A long string of breathy " _Issei Issei Issei Issei_ " and he felt Takahiro tightening around him, coming all over their stomach, while Issei emptied himself inside his hole, buried to the hilt, with a long moan against Hiro's neck, before he crashed upon his boyfriend.

 

They stayed like that for a while, gathering their breath, exchanging little fluttering kisses and smiles.   
Issei could have stayed like that all their life, but he was probably crushing Takahiro with his weight so he moved to extract his softening cock from him... but a pair of legs crossed around his waist and kept him in place, just a little trickle of cum having managed to come out.

"Three years, Issei..." Takahiro was smiling and his voice was soft, but the look he was giving him was deadly "Now you have to make it up to me for three years of amazing sex gone lost".

A shiver ran along his spine as he was pulled down and hungrily kissed. This was gonna be a really long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always very much appreciated. If you want to talk to me, come join me on Tumblr @kayejwrotes.


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